


i can see what's coming (but i'm not saying it)

by plalligator



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Light Dom/sub, Minor Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus, Post-Battle of Scarif, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Telepathic Bond, Vaginal Sex, galen still dies, reluctant soul bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 17:36:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10141871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plalligator/pseuds/plalligator
Summary: Force bonds: they come along at the most inconvenient times, with the most inconvenient of people.





	1. sweetness, sweetness never suits me

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to jediseagull, whose beta job made this a much better fic than it would have been otherwise. the theme song for this story, as per the chapter titles, is 'midnight coward' by stars
> 
> fun fact, the google doc for this is just called 'regrets'

Cassian had plenty of practice at reading people. In his line of work, it was a survival skill, as necessary as knowing how to shoot a blaster. He was good at it, too—and that wasn’t bragging, it was a fact. Galen Erso’s daughter, on first glance, didn’t seem anything out of the ordinary. He watched as the extraction team soldiers brought her in and pushed her to a seat across from Senator Mothma. Maybe 160 cm, slim build, with limp, unwashed dark hair. Tired lines in her face. Imperial prison hadn’t been kind to her. 

She was pretty for a criminal, with those big eyes and full lips. Not that prettiness was an indicator of anything. Anyway, the effect only lasted for a moment, before you saw the coldness in her eyes. She remained impassive as Senator Mothma talked to her, breathing steady. Her body language said she was tense but holding it in well, playing the odds, waiting for an opportunity. She was smart—smarter than the average convict. She’d take the offer, knowing it was the best one she’d get. 

There was absolutely nothing about her that should have made him as uncomfortable as he was. 

And yet. And yet, his mouth was gritty and sour with the taste of unease. 

Something was wrong. It felt like hairs standing up on the back of his neck out of pure animal instinct. Like dry, snapping electricity in the air, dangerous and volatile. 

Normally this feeling was a sign of something about to go horribly wrong. It was the feeling of walking around a corner straight into an Imperial patrol, or the tense moment before shooting broke out. Some Intelligence officers claimed that this was the Force at work. Cassian preferred to think of it as intuition honed by a lifetime of close calls. 

His head was beginning to ache—from the adrenaline or lack of sleep, presumably. He kept his eyes trained on the wall behind her, trying to breathe through it, but instead he felt it intensify somehow. Kriff, was he ill? Had he been dosed with something? His heart was pounding away like he’d been running.

Distantly, he heard the Senator introduce him to Erso, and with the half-second’s slip in concentration his eyes swung to meet hers. 

It was like a physical shock; he had to swallow back nausea immediately as the room spun around him. He had the brief and deeply uncomfortable sensation of looking at himself from outside his body, but most intense of all was the anger. Anger at getting out of prison only to be stuck with the Alliance, anger at Saw for managing to drag her back in after all these years, burning anger at her father for— 

Cassian forced in a breath, and it jolted him back into his own body with a sensation like being forcibly flung out of hyperspace. He let out a breath. Across the room, he saw Erso’s nostrils flare out. Another breath in, and her chest rose in time. She was looking away from him. He deliberately relaxed his muscles and fell back into a casual lean, hoping the change in posture hadn’t been too obvious. The anger was still there, in the back of his mind, but dimmed now, shot through with shock and suspicion. 

Cassian was also good at analyzing the facts of a situation, and he specialized in doing this with the minimum amount of self-deception, no matter how unpleasant the conclusion might be. 

Just because he wasn’t a Force-worshipper or a follower of the Jedi teachings didn’t mean he was totally ignorant. He had a sneaking idea he knew what this was from rambling conversations with informants, with the few and far-flung survivors of the Imperial purge of the Jedi cults. Though he’d never really believed…

No matter what he believed. Here was evidence he couldn’t ignore. 

The only question now was what they were going to do about it.

::

“I need to talk to you.”

Erso glanced up at him sidelong but didn’t move. She played it cool, alright, like the hardened criminal she was, but the effect was ruined when Cassian could feel surges of uncertainty that weren’t his on the inside of his skull like the rapid pressure change of a takeoff. She was badly spooked. He knew it like he knew the way the grip of his blaster felt in his palm.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” she said. “I’ll get you a meeting with Saw. There’s nothing else to discuss.”

“I think there is,” said Cassian, and watched her lashes flicker, once, twice. She stayed silent for a moment, re-knotting the laces on her boots. When she looked up, her expression was guarded and not particularly friendly. 

Cassian could sympathize. He jerked his head away from the ship.

“Come on,” he said. He saw her eyes flicker to K-2, whose audio sensors could pick up even the softest of whispers.

“Fine,” she said, standing up. “This better not take long.”

He didn’t bother to reply, just led her over behind the ship, to a secluded corner where the sound of their conversation would mix in with the general din of the hangar. He didn’t lower his voice, instead keeping his tone casual and conversational. 

“I know you feel it,” he said. Now that they were standing even closer together it was impossible to ignore. If he concentrated, he could feel a second heartbeat pounding alongside his own, phantom pulses in his veins that made him vaguely dizzy. He had to center himself, breathing slowly out through his nose.

And to think he had thought Force bonds were just a myth.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she said in a low voice, dropping any attempt at pretense. “I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t want this. All I want is to do your stupid mission and get out of here.”

“You think _ I  _ wanted this?” he hissed, caught up in a wave of irritation and unable to help himself. “Obviously if I had a choice we wouldn’t be here, but we don’t, do we?” He was far too close, he realized, looming over her like he was a commander with an unruly subordinate. He knew intellectually that was out of line, but the urge to get in her face and shout was almost overwhelming. He took a step back and tried to regain his calm. Someone had to be the adult here.

“Look,” he said, moderating his tone. “We can’t do anything about this, but I do know that this—“ he gestured to the space between them “—is only going to get worse until we, you know,” he paused, discomfited and unsure why. He’d had to do far more uncomfortable things without breaking a sweat. “Touch,” he finished. 

Jyn looked at him, impassive. It was possible she didn’t believe him, but if he remembered right from the files, Lyra Erso had been a believer in—

_ “—the Force, she told me there were whole groups of Force-worshippers on Jedha and how they believed that there were people whose destinies were linked by the Force, who could act as one body and one mind—“ _

It was if the thought had come from his own head. The only indication it hadn’t was the way she started back from him, wide-eyed and pale. For the first time, her composure had cracked. Cassian would have found it funny if he hadn’t abruptly realized with a lurch of horror—if he was getting all this from her,  _ what was she getting from him? _

The Alliance put all its Intelligence officers through training to resist torture. On any given mission, Cassian had multiple levels of information filed away in his head in case of capture, ranging from chicken feed of minimal importance to the contents of encrypted reports only seen by the highest levels of Rebel Intelligence. 

That training had included the possibility of mental penetration. The Jedi may have been gone, but there were unsettling whispers that Darth Vader had similar powers, plus there were creatures like the one Saw Gerrera was rumored to own that could probe the depths of one’s mind. 

In the event that he was in danger of giving up that last level, he had a capsule on a chain around his neck that, if swallowed, would only take thirty seconds to stop his heart. 

This all went through Cassian’s mind in a fraction of a second, one moment of full-blown panic before that very training kicked in and he imagined a door slamming shut in his mind, locking away all but the most surface thoughts. 

It was fine. It was fine. There was no need for worst case scenarios, he just needed to be on his guard.

He could feel suspicion now, from Jyn, and the thud-thud-thud of their combined heartbeat was louder and louder in his ears. He thrust out his hand.

“Here,” he said, and waited. 

She reached out and took it.

It felt like someone had lifted his brain out of his skull and submerged it in warm water, weightless yet electric, like flying, like falling, like pure unadulterated relief and contentment. He could tell suddenly that she had a scar on her calf from childhood, that she hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in three years, and that if he got his mouth on her cunt for a good ten minutes he could make her  _ scream. _

There was time for one too-short breathless inhale before she yanked her hand away and broke the connection. 

Their eyes met. 

He was breathing like he’d just been sprinting and could feel himself sweating beneath his shirt. Her pale cheeks were flushed and her eyes wide. 

He took a careful step back. His mouth was dry; he had to swallow, lick his lips. Realized, as he was doing it, that her eyes had darted to his mouth. 

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. There. Better.” 

It was. The pressure had eased a little bit, enough that Cassian was relatively certain they would be able to function without getting tangled up in each other’s heads. Jyn’s thoughts were now like flickers in his peripheral vision; he could ignore them if he had to. The nausea and headache were gone, too, and that was what really mattered.

“Come on,” he said. “We’re wasting time,” and gestured back toward the ship. She shot him a glare but went.

“No one has to know,” he said as they walked. “And we can forget all about this.” She scoffed, but kept her voice down.

“Please. You think I’m going to tell anyone? Trust me, I’ll be out of your hair as soon as this mission’s done.”

_ ”Force willing,” _ he thought, indescribably weary with the weight of the duty ahead of him. It was going to be a long ride to Jedha.

::

Captain Andor was shutting her out. His mind was locked down like an Imperial prison, a cold smooth surface with no cracks. That was fine by her; she certainly didn’t want to know what was in his head any more than he wanted to know what was in hers. 

The first forty-eight hours of a Force bond were the most important, Jyn remembered that from her mother. On most planets the tradition was for the happy couple to be sequestered while in the beginning stages of the bond so they could fully embrace the Force and their connection to each other.

Bantha shit. 

Jyn wasn’t going near Captain Cassian Andor with a ten-foot pole, except for the fact that they had to share a ship to Jedha. After that, she was gone, and they wouldn’t have the chance to consummate the bond.

She ignored the brief, dry-mouthed certainty that she could dig her fingernails into his back and scratch him bloody and he would let her, and love it.

No, she simply could not think like that. The man she saw in front of her was a hard man, an unforgiving man. He had the air of Saw’s partisans about him, but without the fanaticism, only a steely resolve to do what needed to be done. She could not expect him to be sympathetic to her, and she couldn’t expect his help. 

He was using her just like she was using him. That was all it was.

She’d be damned if she let the Force dictate her choices, and she’d be damned if she’d be saddled with someone else who would only leave her in the end. 

At least she had his blaster. 

::

He hadn’t been wrong. It  _ was _ a long ride to Jedha, for more than one reason. For one thing, the headache was back with a vengeance, and it wasn’t helped any by the heat and noise of Jedha City. He had no idea if Jyn was feeling it too, since he was concentrating as hard as he could on blocking off the connection. Perhaps he was concentrating too hard, since the stormtroopers were on top of them before he knew it. 

In the confusion, he forgot completely about blocking his thoughts, and suddenly he was aware of her all over again, a fire roaring to life at his side. 

She moved like a fire as well, fluid and ferocious and without mercy, an efficient brutality to her movements that made Cassian’s mouth go a little dry. He told himself it was because of the adrenaline. 

Movement caught his eye: a trooper coming up behind her. He raised his blaster, ready to warn her and shoot, when his field of vision opened up and he was right there in the center of the action. He struck out once, twice, and raised his blaster just before there was that hyperdrive sensation again and he was back in his own skull, eyes watering, in time to see Jyn fire a shot into an approaching Imperial droid.

He lowered his blaster, unused even though he could still feel the phantom sensation of firing tingling in his arm. Jyn turned and met his eyes. Confusion. Wariness. Adrenaline from the fight, ebbing now.

Cassian didn’t know what he would have done if K-2 hadn’t rounded the corner at that moment. As it was, it only gave him more to worry about as he saw K’s eyes focus first on him, then on Jyn. Kriff. As observant as K was programmed to be, he’d notice something was up and that was the last thing Cassian wanted. He could only imagine what K would have to say about Cassian’s soulbond with a wanted criminal and daughter of an Imperial collaborator. 

Probably nothing that Cassian hadn’t said to himself already. 

So he sent K-2 back to the ship, and of course that was when it all promptly went to hell.

::

“I sense turmoil in you, Captain Andor,” said the blind man, Chirrut.

Cassian grunted but didn’t divert his attention from the lock of the cell door.

“We’re locked in the prison of an unstable extremist who doesn’t hesitate to execute his enemies,” he pointed out. “And relying on the word of a self-interested former convict to get us out.” 

“Yes, about that,” said Chirrut. “Jyn Erso, isn’t it? She’s your soulmate.” 

Cassian fumbled his tools out of sheer surprise and swore. It didn’t make him feel any better.

“How—” he began, and Chirrut settled his hands on his staff, looking serene. 

“It is clear to anyone attuned to the ways of the Force,” he said. “I can feel your spirits comingling.” 

Cassian must have looked skeptical. The other man, Baze, grunted.

“Physical symptoms,” he said. “You breathe in sync. You’re always tracking her, keeping her in your line of vision, and even when you can’t see her your posture says you’re aware of her spatially.”

“How would I know about physical symptoms?” said Chirrut. “I’m  _ blind. _ ”

Baze didn’t favor Chirrut with a response, instead turning back to Cassian.

“Also,” he said meaningfully, “you’re sweating, and you keep touching your head. Tension headache, probably from strain on the bond.”  

Chirrut frowned, his empty eyes aimed somewhere in the middle distance. 

“That is not good,” he said seriously. “You should be careful. Blocking the bond off like that can be dangerous for you both.”

“It’s necessary,” said Cassian tightly. “The bond was a mistake.” 

Chirrut gave a sharp crack of laughter. 

“Captain, the Force does not make mistakes! All is as the Force wills it.”

_ “I am probably going to have to kill her father,” _ thought Cassian, just once, because Jyn was far away and distracted and because Baze and Chirrut couldn’t read actually read his mind. 

He didn’t bother replying to Chirrut. There was nothing else to say. 

::

"Jyn Erso. I must speak with you."

Jyn looked up. The droid had cornered her as they refuelled the shuttle in preparation for the jump to Eadu, eyes glowing blankly. 

"Yeah?"

"I have observed that you and Cassian are in the early stages of a Force bond." 

Jyn forced herself not to react. 

"And?"

"My research has indicated that the bond is a chemical and physiological process that you are unable to consciously control. It would be unfair to blame you for this chain of events. Nevertheless, I feel compelled to say that introducing this variable has significantly complicated our chances of success on this mission. It would have been optimal if this event had not occurred."

Jyn snorted. 

"Well, we agree on that," she said. Kriff, her head was pounding. It felt like she had been clubbed with the butt of a blaster. 

The droid cocked its head at her.

"You do not want to be bonded to Cassian." It was a statement, not a question. 

A wave of irritation swept through her. 

"In case you haven't noticed, he's not exactly keen on me either," she snapped. “All I want to do is find my father.”

“K-2?” That was Cassian’s voice. He rounded the corner. “Jyn? What are you doing back here?” 

Several things happened all at once. At the sight of him, at the sound of his voice, Jyn relaxed instinctively, turning to face him. As he strode toward them, his hand drifted outward towards the small of her back as if to rest there. It took her a scrambled moment to realize what was happening, and Jyn froze, her whole body tensing up with prickled awareness. Cassian’s hand jerked to a stop with only a fraction of space between them. 

Jyn wasn’t looking at him, but she could feel it as he clenched his hand into a fist and dropped it back to his side. She let out a breath, unsure if she was relieved or disappointed. 

"Your droid decided that I'm a threat to the mission because of the bond," she said bluntly, squaring her shoulders and stepping into Cassian's space. And then, somewhat nastily: "Also, I think it's worried I'm going to break your heart." 

Cassian pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers and sighed. 

"K," he said wearily. "This is really not the appropriate time to bring that up."

K-2's head swung around to Cassian. 

"I disagree. Her presence is a distraction." 

“Hey!” cried Jyn. “I’m not a distraction!”

“I beg to differ,” said K-2. “I have made an analysis based on extensive data collection, including several physical markers such as pulse rate and eye movement, and I have concluded that when you are in proximity, Cassian’s attentiveness to his surroundings drops by—”

"We are  _ both _ distracted," interrupted Cassian loudly. “It’s a stressful situation, and we’re both doing our best. We’ve had worse field conditions.”

K-2 was silent. Cassian sighed.

“Head back to the shuttle, K. We’re on a timetable here.”

After a moment, K-2 nodded.

“Don’t say I didn’t tell you so,” it said, but started walking back anyway. Jyn closed her eyes against the thud of her head, just for a moment. When she opened them again Cassian was looking at her.

“Your head?” 

Up close she could see tension lines around his eyes, a tightness to his jaw that spoke of pain. So he was feeling it too. After a moment, she nodded. He paused as if assessing and then slowly, telegraphing his movement, he stretched a hand in the space between them.

Well, what was there to lose? Anything to get rid of this kriffing headache. 

She laid her palm in his.

Relief was instantaneous. It felt just as good as it had the first time around; like staying inside warm and dry while the rains fell on Lah’mu, like sitting on Papa’s lap while Mama told stories, like safety. Like home. 

It was Cassian who let the connection drop this time, stepping away, something unreadable in his face. His shoulders were down, though, some lines in his face smoothed out.

“Thanks,” she said grudgingly. She didn’t have a lump in her throat. She didn’t.

He nodded.

“It was nothing. We should go.” 

As they went, she could have sworn she saw something like regret in his expression, but maybe that was a trick of the light.

::

Cassian wouldn’t meet her eyes. That was maybe what made her angriest, the fact that he  _ wouldn’t look at her.  _ If he were remorseless it would be a lot easier to be angry with him, and Jyn  _ really _ needed to be angry at someone right now. 

But instead, Cassian had the nerve to feel guilty about her father’s death, the two-faced, lying  _ sneak _ . She didn’t want his guilt. 

She wanted her father back. 

Cassian flinched a little, just a tic of his eye. Good.

“I didn’t kill him,” he said, turning to face her, but not before a memory flashed across his mind—getting orders from Draven before they had shipped out to Jedha.

“Didn’t you?” said Jyn, shoving the memory back at him. Not so good at hiding his thoughts now, was he?

“I had orders,” he shot back, “and every chance to take the shot. But I didn’t.” He was miserable about it, which only made her angrier.

“You’re no better than a Stormtrooper,” she said, and regretted it the instant it was out of her mouth, and he knew it, and she knew he knew it. But it was too late; the words were out there. She watched his face harden.

“What do you know? We don't all have the luxury of deciding when and where we want to care about something. Suddenly the Rebellion is real for you? Some of us live it. I've been in this fight since I was 6 years old. You're not the only one who lost everything.” He turned away from her. “Some of us just decided to do something about it.” 

He may have looked calm, but his composure was cracked and he was hemorrhaging thoughts and feelings. Everything he had been keeping under careful lock and key stabbed into Jyn’s head, and she had to sit down abruptly. 

She didn’t want to understand. She didn’t. 

But she did anyway. And it still hurt. 

“Yavin IV,” she heard Cassian say distantly. Bodhi was still looking back and forth between them like they were grenades ready to blow, but he obeyed.

Jyn slumped back in her seat and closed her eyes, heartsick and wishing she were a little girl again, sitting on her father’s lap. 

At the very least, she thought, at the  _ very least _ she was going to complete her father’s last mission. She was going to Scarif no matter what.

::

It was hearing Jyn repeat his own words back to Alliance Command that decided things for him—that, and he knew better than most that she really meant it. 

He’d done terrible things in the name of the Alliance. If he walked away now, he would never forgive himself. And that was what he told her, after he’d gathered everyone he could find. He told her everything. There was no point in hiding anymore.

“I’m not used to people sticking around when things go bad,” she said, as the rest of their impromptu squadron scrambled to mobilize around them. They were standing much closer together than was strictly necessary. He could have reached out and touched her with the slightest of movements. 

There was something in her voice, in the tilt of her head, that was like a breath held in anticipation. Waiting for him.

_ “Welcome home,”  _ he said through the bond, deliberately opening his mind to her. Her smile was like a slow sunrise, its glow seeping through the bond and lighting it up like a beacon in the night. For the first time, they were perfectly attuned, the connection between them open and free-flowing. 

A moment of pleased recognition, like a mental exchange of nods, and then they were off. They had a job to do. 

::

Infiltrating the base on Scarif went well until it didn’t. 

Jyn felt Cassian fall from the data bank with a sick twist in her stomach, felt the phantom pain of slamming to the platform below. 

"Cassian!"

The shout drew the stormtroopers' attention back to her, and she cursed and ducked for cover. 

_ "Cassian," _ she called again, inaudibly.  _ "Cassian!" _

He didn't respond. For one horrific moment she was alone in her head, and then she could sense him again, enough to know that he was conscious and reeling from the fall, stunned and in pain. 

It had to be enough. She couldn't afford to wait any longer or go back for him. Blinking back tears, she began to climb again, sending him all the comfort and reassurance she could muster. 

Climb. Climb, climb, climb. She advanced up the tower, the disk with the plans bumping against her hip. 

He was getting out of range, now. She pushed one last jumble of feelings at him: “ _ Please be alright I'm sorry" _ and then she was climbing out onto the roof, on her own. 

::

Cassian woke up to pain, and twin impulses urging him on: Jyn, and the plans. He took a moment to take stock, checking that he still had functioning limbs and a blaster, and clambered stiffly to his feet. Each breath sent a stab of pain through his side—probably a cracked rib, at the very least. He would have to move carefully. 

Jyn would have gone up, and anyone trying to stop her would have gone up too. Cassian took a couple shallow breaths, tentatively grabbed for a handhold on the data bank, and began to ascend. Climb, climb, climb: it was like a mantra echoing in his ears. 

He was most of the way up when he felt a lurch of panic that almost made his sweaty palms lose their grip. Jyn. Something was wrong. He redoubled his efforts, panting, and stretched out his mind to reach for her.

_ “Hold on just hold on I’m coming I’m coming okay,” _ he thought fiercely.  _ “I’m almost there.” _

He had no idea if she could hear him. If he had been smarter he would’ve found out the maximum distance bonded pairs could be separated and still communicate. As it was, he could only keep hauling himself up, straining to make contact with Jyn. 

_ “Cassian?”  _

_ “I’m here I’m coming,” _ he sent back. Her attention was split—she was talking to someone.

_ “Krennic, it’s Krennic and he’s got a blaster,” _ she replied, her thoughts jumbled and rushed.  _ “I haven’t sent the plans yet, I need more time.” _

He could see daylight—he was within arm’s reach of the roof. Just a little more...

Jyn was sending him an image: the top of the roof, Krennic in between her and the control panel. 

_ “It’s only him, there’s no guards,” _ she thought. Krennic was readying his blaster.  _ “You can still get to the panel. Cassian, I…” _

Cassian hauled himself up onto the platform with shaking limbs, propped himself against a pillar, raised his blaster, and shot. 

It was a good shot. But then again, Cassian had the advantage of knowing Krennic’s position before he even set foot on the roof.

Krennic went down, and Cassian sagged against the wall before his legs gave out. He caught Jyn’s eye and nodded. She shot him a brief grateful smile back before hurrying for the control panel. He let his heart rate slow, trying not to breath too deeply; his ribs felt like a knife wound.

Triumph flared in the back of his mind like a firework. She’d done it.

They’d done it.

And then Jyn was there, overflowing with concern. She eased one of his arms over her shoulder and he sank gratefully into her hold. He needed the comfort of touch almost as much as he needed the support. From Jyn’s iron grip on his waist, she felt the same way. They limped to the elevator as one clumsy creature with four legs. 

Neither of them spoke as the lights went down, and in the darkness they were so close he could feel her breath against his mouth.

_ "You came back for me."  _

He swallowed thickly. 

_ "Always." _

There wasn't much else to say. They were cut off from the rest of the Rogue One team with no way to reestablish communication. Cassian had no idea what the situation on the ground was, but it wasn't likely to be good. Odds were they'd walk straight into a battalion of stormtroopers, and neither of them were in any condition to fight their way out.

He'd known this might happen. They both had. But it had to be done, or the rest was pointless. 

He only regretted that time had been so short.

"Cassian." 

The lights flickered on as they reached the ground floor, and he took a long look at her face, eyes big in the dim light. Her chin was set. It took him a moment to figure out what she was asking, but when he did, he nodded. 

That, at least, they could have. 

He tilted his head down, and their lips met gently, just brushing together. There was a sensation like a key turning in a lock, and he knew at once that the bond was complete. No matter what happened, no one could take that away. 

Their joined minds were one murmuring ocean, and there was nothing to do but sink deeper into it.

_ "Your father would be proud of you," _ he thought, knowing she had been ready to die up at the tower, and deeply, painstakingly glad she hadn’t.

Jyn gripped his hand tighter, and the elevator doors opened.


	2. now i'm walking with the sun in my mouth

Jyn didn’t know where the ship that got them off Scarif came from, or how it knew to come get them. All she knew was that she didn’t want to let go of Cassian, and she felt his agreement, quick and ferocious, through the bond.

They found themselves sitting on the shuttle floor. Jyn cradled Cassian’s head, because she could tell it was hurting. He smiled up at her and reached a hand to tuck a strand of hair back behind her ear, broadcasting reassurance. She hummed and squeezed him tighter, shifting her grip to his back, and he sighed and curled one of his arms around her waist, burying his face in her stomach.

Distantly around them was the sound of the ship pulling out of hyperdrive. They were coming down into the atmosphere, Jyn could tell, but it didn’t seem all that important. Cassian had a vague idea of where they were—oh. The rebel base on Yavin IV. That was fine then.

Cassian was also anticipating debarking and being swarmed by medics and people demanding reports. They needed to talk to the Senator. She frowned. She didn’t mind doing all that as long as they wouldn’t make her leave Cassian.

“...ant! Sergeant Erso! Captain Andor!”

Jyn had to shut her eyes, the voices were too grating. When she opened them again, she was looking up at a harried human medic.

“Come on, let’s get you to medbay. Up you get.”

Jyn stared at her, unsure what the problem was.

The medic’s brow creased and she frowned.

“Shock,” she murmured to herself, and turned to yell over her shoulder. “Can I get a medical droid over here?”

She knelt down next to Jyn.

“Sergeant Erso? I’m Hetta. You’re safe now, okay? Can you let go of Captain Andor for a moment so I can check you both for injuries?”

Protectiveness flared, and Cassian twisted upward and buried his face in her neck. Jyn frowned. She had the vague idea they should comply with the medics, if only because she was worried about Cassian’s ribs.

Cassian growled slightly and shook his head. His ribs were fine. He’d taken worse.

Yeah, and Jyn was the Queen of Naboo. She’d felt the fall he’d taken. He smiled at this, beard scraping the thin skin against her collarbone, and she shivered a little in spite of her aching and exhausted body.

He was amused at that, and a little smug. She scoffed at him internally, but knew he could feel the pleasure and contentment washing through her like waves. Really, though, his injuries needed attention.

He shook his head again. He just needed a minute. She sighed and settled in again.

Then, shock as something grabbed her arm and pulled her away. It felt like she’d taken a boot to the stomach; a sick swooping sensation that made her cry out, hoarse and wordless. She lashed out and felt her elbow connect with something soft. She wrenched herself away and called for Cassian, could feel their joined heartbeat skyrocket.

Someone was yelling. The medic from before was hovering above her, but Jyn’s vision was blurred, somehow, and spinning. She couldn’t see Cassian.

She couldn’t see Cassian. Her breath was coming in short, shallow bursts.

“Sedative, we need a double dose of sedative!”

She tried to scramble to her feet, pushing past the medic, but before she could get far, something cold and metallic closed around her arm. She struck out with her free arm before it too was pinned, and she was pushed down onto the floor.

Panic crested over her, crashing down like a wave, and everything went black.

::

She was feeling much better when she awoke, mainly because she could feel Cassian’s mind slotted in next to hers like a puzzle piece and knew he wasn’t far. She was lying on a cot in a brightly-lit room that smelled of bacta that must have been the Rebel infirmary.

“Cassian?” she said aloud, voice slightly hoarse.

“Here,” he said immediately, and she turned to see that he was in the bed next to hers, wearing a loose set of scrubs. K-2 was seated on a bench across the room. At the sound of Cassian’s voice, K-2’s head lifted and his eyes flashed on.

“Cassian. You are awake. I will delay registering my extreme disapproval with your actions until after a medic has been located.”

With that, he unfolded himself and left the room.

“What’s his problem?” muttered Jyn, levering herself up and swinging her legs slowly over the side of the bed. She felt a little weak, but not seriously injured.

Cassian grunted.

“He tends to...take exception when I injure myself,” he said. Jyn stretched out a hand to him, and he took it and pulled himself upright. He wasn’t in pain anymore, either from his ribs or his head.

“Yeah,” said Cassian, picking up on the thought. “They must have put me in a bacta tank while I was under.” Just then, the doors opened and a medic Jyn distantly remembered from earlier came in, followed by K-2.

“Oh good, you’re both awake,” the medic said, glancing distractedly at her datapad. “I can’t imagine what you were thinking, it’s incredibly dangerous to be separated mid-bond like that. If I’d known I never would have done it. Sergeant Erso, you don’t have any medical records with us so that can’t be helped, but Captain Andor should have known better than to withhold that information!”

“Cassian didn’t do anything wrong,” said Jyn sharply. At least he hadn’t consciously, because she could feel his confusion. At the same time, he spoke up.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The medic stared at them.

“Your Force bond,” she said. “When we tried to separate you to check for injuries, you reacted...badly. We had to sedate you both, and even then we didn’t know about your bond until your droid told us.”

“After you had to be rendered unconscious to receive medical attention, I informed the medics that your unstable and incomplete Force bond was likely the cause of your condition,” said K-2. How a droid could sound that disapproving, Jyn had no idea. “Side-effects of an incomplete bond include increased irritability, decreased appetite, tension headaches, elevated core temperature—”

“K,” said Cassian, but K-2 appeared not to hear him.

“—codependency, desire for physical contact, confusion, dizziness, and impaired decision-making,” he finished. “I can only assume that your irrational behavior was the product of your addled brains.”

“Yes, anyway,” said the medic. “Luckily your other friend was able to provide additional insight.”

Cassian groaned and muttered something inaudible, but Jyn picked up the memory through the bond.

“Chirrut,” she said. Kriff. Of course he knew.

“I didn’t think to update my medical files,” Cassian explained to the medic wearily, returning to the thread of discourse. “The bond is...recent. Very recent. We’ve only known for…” he paused, trying to remember. Jyn wasn’t any help. It had been nonstop from Yavin IV to Jedha to Eadu, back to Yavin, and then to Scarif, and doing that many lightspeed jumps to planets in different systems messed with a person’s sense of time. Add in whatever time they’d spent unconscious and she didn’t even know if it was day or night on Yavin IV.

“...a very short time,” finished Cassian, giving up.

“And they spent most of it trying to block the connection,” said a familiar voice from the door. It was Chirrut, leaning on his stick and still filthy from battle, Baze at his shoulder. Something in Jyn’s chest unclenched at the sight of them. “I thought you might be up,” he said. “You are looking better.”

“Bodhi?” said Cassian, a half-second after the thought flashed through Jyn’s mind, directing the question to Baze.

“Took some shrapnel, but he’s fine,” said Baze. “I kept an eye on him.” He and Cassian traded a soldier’s nod of acknowledgement.

“The bond is looking better,” said Chirrut, tapping his way into the room. “But you two should still fully consummate before the mental strain gets worse. The longer you wait, the more you risk imbalance.”

The number and variety of mental images that sprung to Cassian’s mind at the word ‘consummate’ was...a revelation. She wouldn’t have thought it possible of the tightly-wound, reserved man she had first met. But here they were, possibilities unfurling like flowers to the light, bursting forth like they had been waiting for the chance.

She couldn’t look at Cassian without betraying herself, but something deep inside her sang. _Oh,_ was she looking forward to this.

“Is that so?” said Cassian, looking at the medic. She shrugged her head, looking harried.

“It can’t hurt. I haven’t ever seen a case of a bond left unconsummated as long as you two left it, but it would be recommended procedure in any case.”

“It won’t be a hardship,” said Chirrut helpfully, and actually winked at them. “You’ll enjoy it.” He turned halfway in Baze’s direction. “Do you remember our bond consummation?”

“A foolish question,” said Baze. “You remember it, therefore I remember it.” He cracked a smile. “It does get a little fuzzy near the end.” He turned to Jyn. “Bring fluids. You’ll want to stay hydrated.”

There was no way Jyn was going to acknowledge that. She would literally rather die.

“You two,” said Cassian, finger twitching between Chirrut and Baze, “You are…?” He sighed. “Of course.”

Chirrut just smiled.

“Have fun!” he said.

“We are not done talking about this,” promised Cassian, and turned to the medic. “Can I get my clothes, please?” As he spoke, he sent Jyn an image of his quarters, questioning.

 _“Yes,”_ she sent back, _“Yes, yes.”_

::

Cassian’s quarters were small and impersonal, little more than a bunk and a single table and chair and a dresser. All the available surfaces were covered with equipment and datapads.

“Haven’t been here in a while,” said Cassian by way of explanation. She knew he meant that he had no need to, except for sleep and new clothes. Jyn didn’t say anything, just sat down on his bunk and kicked off her boots. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she smirked back at him: what are you going to do about it?

She felt rather than saw the softening around his mouth, and he tossed his coat on the chair and strode over.

“Move over,” he said, bending down to unlace his own boots, which he’d put on again to leave the infirmary.

“Make me,” she said.

He placed his boots by the foot of the bunk, rolled up his sleeves, and suddenly she was being unceremoniously lifted and tossed to the far side of the small bunk. She tried to scramble up, but he used a hand to keep her there until he had squeezed in beside her and she was pinned between him and the wall. He was stronger than he looked, muscle hard and unyielding beneath the skin of his forearms.

She stretched out, enjoying the feel of his body flush against hers and the gentle lapping of their minds together, and let out a jaw-cracking yawn. Cassian huffed a breath of laughter.

“Sleep first?” he asked, breath tickling her ear.

She hadn’t realized how tired she was until she laid down. She couldn’t remember the last time she slept—real sleep, not unconsciousness. It must have been Wobani.

“Sleep first,” she confirmed. He shifted so he could wrap an arm around her shoulders and they slipped, synchronously, into sleep.

::

Cassian woke up an indeterminate amount of time later, feeling more well-rested than he had in…well, a long time. Jyn was curved into the hollow of his chest and he had an arm thrown around her waist. Her shirt was rucked up a little and he could feel her bare skin radiating heat against his palm. He was pleasantly exhausted and happy to float in the warm space between sleep and waking, listening to Jyn breathe.

He felt the moment she flickered back into consciousness. She made a soft noise and stirred, and the movement pressed her ass back into the vee of his hips.

Cassian was suddenly very, very awake, and his libido, which had been more or less on the back burner since he was presented for a chance to sleep for the first time in days, came to life again with a vengeance. And in this close of a proximity, his thin infirmary pants did nothing to hide it from Jyn. Alight with mischief, she repeated the movement, grinding back against his rapidly hardening dick. He groaned and pressed himself closer, reaching with his free hand for the waistband of her pants until he encountered a zipper. She untangled one of her hands to help him with it, not ceasing the movement of her hips against his.

Finally, he got his hand in her pants and past the fabric of her underwear. She guided him where she wanted him to go, where she was just beginning to dampen. At the first touch of his fingers to her cunt, he gasped, because he could actually feel what she felt, a distant echo of pleasure through the bond.

“Cassian,” she said impatiently, and he set to work until his fingers were soaked to the knuckles. He was burning up—they were both still fully dressed. He could feel her orgasm building, and he bent his head to her neck and breathed in her scent as he thumbed at her clit. She smelled strongly of sweat, smoke, and ozone—they both did—with a hint of bacta, which wasn’t objectively pleasant but soothed something in him in a primal way.

He slipped two fingers into her and sped up the motion on her clit, and she clenched around him and came, hips bucking. The phantom shocks coming through the bond tipped him over the edge as surely as a hand on his cock, and he came in his pants like he hadn’t done in ten years. At least.

Despite the stickiness, he felt good. Great, even. Jyn was radiating satisfaction like a cat in a patch of sun, wondering if she could get him to come again. If she kept giving herself orgasms, would he feel it too?

"No," said Cassian warningly, even though the images she was sending him were making his dick stir. It hadn't taken her long to learn how to exploit the connection. "Shower first."

In his defense, they both needed a shower rather badly, to wash off the accumulated sweat and grime of the last few days. Cassian still felt vaguely and unpleasantly slimy from the bacta tank, and he wasn't staying in cum-stained paints a minute longer than he had to.

Rather predictably, the shower turned into Cassian on his knees eating Jyn out as water coursed down her belly and her nipples pebbled, but he certainly wasn't going to count that as a loss. She did scream, as he’d predicted, and yanked on his hair so hard his eyes watered; the pain flowing like a lightning bolt down his spine and straight to his dick.

They didn't bother to dress again, especially since Jyn had no clothes other than the ones on her back.

"I could wear some of yours," she suggested, and laughed at his face as he was caught between keeping her here naked in his quarters forever and the thought of her in nothing but one of his shirts. The worst part of it was that she knew exactly what he was thinking, except that it wasn't the worst part at all.

He realized he hadn't kissed her since Scarif, and that clearly needed to be remedied. She thought so too, and so he found himself with a lapful of Jyn, kissing him like she aimed to master the art. He ran his hands down her bare waist, aiming to slow her down, but it was hard to go slow when she bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Oh, so you want to fight, do you?" he said, and pushed her back onto the bed. On the way down, she got her legs around his waist and, in one quick move of clenched thigh muscles. rolled them them so she was on top. He hit the bed laughing and they struggled for a few moments until the slide of skin on skin became too much. She was still slick from two orgasms, so it was easy to roll on top of her and push in, slow and easy.

She moaned and dug her nails into his shoulders, clenched around him. He pulled out and thrust back in, and she rose to meet him, seeking out a rhythm.

Everything was too much; he could almost feel her heartbeat pounding in time to his, could feel the blood pulsing under their shared skin, the air bubbling into their lungs. For a brief, electric moment, he was aware of every muscle in his body, or so it felt. And more than that—shifting currents in the air around them.

The Force—he knew it like he knew gravity. He’d never felt it before, not really. Neither had Jyn, and he could feel her astonishment at the thing they had conjured between them, like looking into the heart of a star.

His orgasm ignited like an oil slick and Jyn was right there with him, tumbling over the edge and back down from the stars into the small bed they lay in together.

::

The first round must have kicked something off in the bond, because everything after that was...strange. A little like being high, but without the crash afterward, vivid and dreamy at the same time. It felt like he’d been linked to Jyn directly at the brainstem, two oceans crashing together and blending, and the two of them together were just part of something bigger, something so vast and shining that it made a part of him curl up out of sheer awe.

Also, everything felt _fantastic_.

Cassian ate Jyn out again, cleaning his seed out from inside her as she hitched and moaned around him and dug her heels into his back. He teased the crease of her inner thigh and kissed his way up to her belly button, dragging his beard across the soft skin. She was sensitive and swollen from so many orgasms already, so it took her a while to get there, but when she did she clamped her thighs around his head till he was almost dizzy and swore a blue streak that would've made a Hutt blush.

After, she claimed a break, too fucked-out to continue. Instead, in what was clearly an act of revenge, she sucked Cassian off with agonizing slowness, putting her strength into pinning his hips so he couldn't buck up into her mouth and get the friction he so desperately needed. He was at her mercy as she mouthed up and down his shaft and cupped his balls, running her nails down the inside of his thighs.

He was reduced to moaning her name, dick so hard it hurt, and in the end she made him beg—extensively, and in great detail—before she took him in almost to the root. He came almost immediately, with a force he wouldn't have thought was possible, and by the time he was sensate again Jyn was curled up at his side, licking her lips and looking stupendously proud of herself. She was broadcasting proprietary satisfaction so strongly through the bond that his spent cock actually twitched a little and he wondered wildly if he could go another round….before he got his brain back up in his skull where it belonged and remembered that they were both in need of the fresher and the shower, among other things.

After cleaning up, they took a break to eat a couple ration bars and drink water, and fell asleep curled around each other in Cassian’s bunk.

He woke up with his cock enveloped in warm wet heat, Jyn sucking him down while he hardened in her mouth. She must have felt him wake, because she pulled off a little and grinned up at him, then went back down. Cassian had to choke back a cry and fisted his hands in the sheets, trying desperately to keep himself under control. Jyn graciously allowed him a moment to collect himself, and just as his breathing settled back to normal and he felt like he wouldn’t explode, her hand slid past his balls and up to cup his ass, one finger teasing the edge of his hole. He almost flinched with the shock of it, and she shushed him, smoothing a hand along his side.  She was sending him a question through the bond—or an idea, rather.

He breathed out. They didn't have the necessary supplies here, but Cassian knew where to get them. The Yavin IV base, like any other community of people living in close quarters, had certain resources if you knew where to look.

The idea—the idea of Jyn above him, pinning facedown to the mattress—fucking into him—  

He had to close his eyes, overwhelmed. He heard her moan and could feel that she was touching herself, sliding a finger into her cunt while her other hand was still on his ass. He opened his eyes and reached for her, and she kissed him deep and dirty and crawled up into she could sink down onto his cock. He collapsed back onto the mattress and let her use him, riding him until her thighs were shaking. His own orgasm was incidental after that, like something wrung out from deep inside of him in the wake of Jyn clenching around him.

Time fell away.  The rest of the day passed in a blur.

They started coming down around evening, finishing with a long, lazy round of fucking that was more about the pleasure of touch and warmth than about getting off. The room smelled of sweat and sex, ordinary and bodily without the celestial charge of the Force. They ate ration bars in bed, finding their fumbling way around conversation in words instead of pure emotional impulses. The bond felt like a muscle exhausted by use, but stronger for it.

“I’ll need to meet with Command tomorrow,” he said. They were going to want his report, and somewhere along the line he had disobeyed orders, though given the outcome he was expecting more of a hasty cover-up to make the Rogue One op look official than a court-martial. Not that the Intelligence division was big on procedure or discipline in general.

Jyn was silent. She had gotten the jumble of explanation out of his thoughts, and knew that what he was really asking was _“Will you stay?”_ There was no love lost between her and the Alliance. She respected Mon Mothma, but that seemed to be as far as it went. If she really wanted to go…

She bumped her shoulder against his, interrupting his thoughts.

“Hey, what kind of hypocrite would I be if left when things got bad?”

He relaxed into her, trying to hide how relieved he was. She knew, of course, and nudged him with her shoulder again.

“It’s true I’m not so sure about the Alliance, but there are good people here. Chirrut and Baze. Bodhi.” She ducked her head. “You.” It came out low and quiet, a tacit apology. Wordless, he pressed his mouth to her hair, kissed her forehead. There was nothing to say that wouldn't overwhelm them both.

They were neither of them experienced with intimacy—too much time spent keeping other people at bay as a survival tactic. By all rights they shouldn’t have worked. But here they were, pressed together thigh to thigh and hip to hip. Jyn’s hair was tangled and still damp from their last shower, her mouth red and swollen. She’d left vicious purpling bruises in the meat of his neck and shoulders, digging her teeth in as if to mark him permanently as hers, and he hadn’t minded in the least.

It was easy, breathtakingly so. That very fact scared him, the enormity of the change and the strangeness of it. Like gaining an extra limb all of a sudden, or having a tooth grow back.

He turned off the lights and Jyn tucked herself up against his chest, twining an ankle between his calves. He fell asleep still marveling, exhilarated and terrified all at once.

::

Jyn awoke feeling refreshed and alert. Cassian's spot in the bed next to her was cool, and she remembered half-waking as he got up and dressed to report to the heads of the Intelligence division. She stretched, pleasantly sore—she even had beard burn on the inside of her thighs—and got up to find her old pants and boots, which were filthy but still wearable. She did steal one of Cassian’s shirts, because she hadn’t forgotten his reaction when she suggested it. It was slightly big on her, and neatly showed off the spots where Cassian had left bites up her neck. Jyn was very pleased with it.

She grinned at her reflection in the mirror, imagining Cassian meeting with the leaders of the Alliance with her marks all down his back. She went off to have breakfast in the mess hall, glowing with satisfaction at the thought of sending him off well-fucked and bruised up.

Honestly, it was almost a shame that no one seemed to have used Cassian the way he liked it—needed it—before her. Almost.

She found Chirrut, Baze, and Bodhi at a table on the edge of the mess and plonked her tray and caf down in front of them.

“Morning!” she said cheerfully, which earned her a slightly alarmed look from Bodhi.

“M-morning,” he said, watching as she dug into her disgusting mess hall food with gusto.

Baze snorted.

“Hungry?” he questioned. Jyn bared her teeth at him in a grin.

“ _Starving,”_ she said, and took a swig of caf, staring him down. He just gave her a look back that said, flatly, that she was going to have to do more than that to get a rise out of him. A little disappointing, but Jyn wasn’t going to be too bothered by it.

“Oh good,” said Chirrut, beaming in her general direction. “Much better.” Speaking of the bond, she guessed. “My goodness, you really didn't hold back at all, did you? No lack of enthusiasm here.”

“Can you actually tell, or are you just guessing?” Jyn asked, curious. After all, it wasn't like she could sense anything about Chirrut and Baze’s Force bond.

“The Force tells me,” said Chirrut, at the same time Baze chimed in with “He’s guessing.”

Since this answer wasn’t very helpful, Jyn ignored it and turned to Bodhi, whose dark eyes were flicking back and forth between the three of them.

“Are you alright? Baze said you were injured.”

He shrugged awkwardly, wiggling one of his shoulders to reveal a bandage beneath his jumpsuit.

“Shrapnel,” he said in his quiet voice. “They put bacta on it. I’m okay.” He wasn’t quite meeting her eyes, but continued to look up at her face every few seconds. Did he see her father’s features looking back at him? It was strange to think that Bodhi had known a completely different Galen Erso, one that perhaps Jyn wouldn’t even recognize.

She felt her heart clench for Bodhi. She caught his eye and nodded, hoping at least some of what she was feeling got conveyed. He blinked back at her and gave a tiny smile.

She looked around as she ate, and realized the mess hall was emptier than she would have expected; she set down her spoon, appetite lost.

“How many people made it off Scarif?” she asked quietly, with a twist of guilt in her stomach for not having thought of it sooner.

Baze and Bodhi exchanged a glance, and Bodhi gave a shrug and a grimace.

“They don’t know yet,” he said. “Only about half of the ground fighters made it back to the shuttle. I talked to some of the Alliance pilots. They lost a lot of people trying to take down the planet gate, and a couple ships went down to the surface at the end to try and get survivors, but…” He trailed off. “Nobody’s sure if they made it out.”

“It was an unauthorized mission,” said Baze. “No record of who was even on it.”

“And then, of course, the Empire lit up their own base like a cheap firework,” said Chirrut, disgust thick in his voice. “Who knows how many were there when it went?”

She was caught for a moment in the enormity of it. She hadn’t even known the names of the Alliance soldiers who went to Scarif with them, much less the pilots who cleared the way for them to get the transmission out.

It had been easier when she hadn’t cared, but she was done with that now. She had a responsibility to see that their deaths hadn’t been for nothing.

She was just finishing her caf when, without thinking, she stood up and turned around in time to see Cassian enter the mess hall, brow furrowed and worry hanging like a cloud over him. His gaze swung like a compass needle for a brief moment before finding her, and their eyes met across the crowd. She could feel her face stretch into a smile, entirely unbidden. His face smoothed out and he smiled back, whatever was bothering him pushed away by the pleasure of seeing her. For one frozen second, the universe breathed in, the Force was electric around them and Jyn knew, she _knew,_ they were all going to be okay.

  
The breath released, and Cassian came to join them.


End file.
